The Worries of a Father
by Mirnava
Summary: Joe failed to return home on time after going to Pine Flatts on his own. Ben's fatherly instincts set in and he goes after him, but nothing prepared him for what would happen on the way. Ben's POV. My first fic!


The sun was shining merrily in the cloudless sky. He sat overlooking the lake as he had been for the last ten minutes. He should move on soon, he knew, but the lake always mesmerized him. Sighing, he gently touched his heels to either side of the horse below him. The animal smoothly started forward, changing gait from a slow walk to a trot at his master's command. The pinto desperately wanted to pick up the pace, to run at top speed. With a mischievous gleam in his bright emerald eyes, the rider loosened his grip on the reins and let his mount fly across the land, seemingly without his hooves ever touching the ground. As they sped along the road, the only thing on Joe's mind was the joy that came with the feeling of weightlessness.

-M-

Alone in the magnificent house he had built for his family on the land he loved, Ben Cartwright sat doing his "chores". It was the job he absolutely hated most, yet the one he knew would never go away. Sitting at the well-worn yet still sturdy desk in his office, he stared once more at the work ledgers in front of him. Again and again his mind would wander, turning to his three sons, all out on business. Adam had gone to see about a problem in the latest timber contract. Ben did not worry about him. He knew Adam was too level-headed to get in any trouble, but he still missed him and wanted him home. Just as he did all his boys. Hoss had elected to be the one to bring back the fifty head of cattle they had recently purchased. He had taken some of the Ponderosa hands with him, so Ben was sure they could handle the cows. No, it was Joe he was thinking about so much. "Little Joe" he was affectionately called as a youngster. It had stuck, and not for no reason. Smaller in stature than either of his older brothers, he made up for it in temper… one that was always getting the best of him. But that was not the only reason Ben worried constantly for his youngest. He had no idea why, but he definitely picked up the pattern that Joe always found danger, his fault or not. Ben had almost decided against letting him go all the way to Pine Flatts by himself to retrieve the unbroken horses they needed. Still, for some reason, he had let him go, against his better judgment, and Adam's. Many times had Joe used the excuse that he was capable of doing his share of the work, and though Ben did not doubt this fact at all, he was too well-acquainted with the trouble that sought him out to let him go with an easy mind. Yet he had. Now, he wondered if he had really made the right decision. He knew he would be worrying until all three of his sons were back on the Ponderosa with him.

-M-

For the next two weeks, Ben carried on as usual, Hop Sing his only company aside from the hands left on the ranch. He still missed his boys – what parent would not? – but he was happy that at least Joe was going to be home soon. Within the hour, if all was well. He turned back to forking hay from Buck's stall. He could have let one of the hands do it, but with his boys away, there was nobody to tell him to "take it easy" and not do as much around his ranch. There was nobody to send to do it to avoid an argument or to punish for one, so he thought he would just do it himself. With the repetitive task, Ben soon lost track of time and looked up to see that the sun had set and the yard was covered in a blanket of darkness. Ben knew not to worry terribly, for he might have been held up, but even with his mind screaming this at him, his fatherly heart reminded him yet again of Joe's knack for trouble and he worried even more. Thinking it over, he decided to give Joe the benefit of the doubt and wait two more days. If he was not home then, Ben would decide what course of action to take next. He put his pitchfork away and walked back inside, stopping long enough to stare at the glittering sky and pray for his sons' well-being.

-M-

Ben woke, straining to hear any sound that would tell him if anyone had returned during the night. He heard none, so preceded to dress and ready himself for another day. As he descended the staircase to the main room, a strong sense of danger hit him. Some might say he was crazy, but it was this same instinct that had saved him and his family on many an occasion, and he was not about to start ignoring it now. Something was wrong. He picked up the only gunbelt laying on the credenza and fastened it onto his waist. Tying the string that kept the holster steady to his leg, he plopped his hat on his head and strode out to the barn. He was nearly finished saddling his horse when he heard familiar scuffing footsteps. Hop Sing entered the barn.

"Now don't go saying anything. I'm going to go, and you can't change my mind, Hop Sing," he said, cutting off the words in the Chinese cook's throat.

The smaller man just looked at Ben and smiled, a lopsided and goofy grin. "Oh, no, mistah Cahtlight. I just bring food for you to take," he replied, producing a small satchel from behind his back. "I know mistah Cahtlight want find Little Joe. Hop Sing want find Little Joe, too."

Ben just stood there looking at Hop Sing for a second. Of course he would not stop Ben. Hop Sing loved Joe just as much as the rest of them did. He smiled and tucked away the food.

-M-

Reaching one hand up to keep his hat on his head, Ben looked around him, squinting in the sun. The road he travelled was in the middle of nowhere. It traipsed through the desert, leaving him unable to see when the lightest refreshing breeze blew. All around, as far as he could see, was red. It should not have been, being Nevada and not Georgia, but it was just one of those unsolved mysteries the earth was so fond of. Ben wished there was another way to Pine Flatts, but he knew this was the only trail, that Joe had travelled this way. He sighed. Joe. What had that boy gotten himself into this time? He cast his mind back, remembering all the trouble. Kidnappings. Sicknesses. Beatings. Gunshot wounds. How many times had he been in danger? How many more? His family all loved him as much as any could, but still. They could only protect him so much. And even less than they wanted to, due to Joe's constant balking from the attention.

Ben was jerked back to reality when Buck stumbled. He pulled gently on the reins, muttering, "Whoa," and dismounted as Buck stopped. At once, he noticed that his horse was favoring his right front leg. He looked back at the trail they had just covered, running a hand through his hair exhaustedly. A hole. No bigger than his fist, but large enough to catch a horse's hoof. Why had he not stayed alert? He slapped Buck's flank affectionately. "How come you didn't see that hole, buddy?" He was not one to usually talk to his horse, but having been on the trail for two days without company, he seemed to have picked up a little of Joe's habit. Reaching down to pick up Buck's hoof, he soon found that the leg was twisted, and although he could bear his own weight, there was no way Ben could ride anymore. He released the leg. Again, he scanned the landscape; as before, there was nothing in sight, but this time, it seemed ominously empty. Ben gathered the reins from atop Buck's neck and began walking, leading the horse in the same direction they were previously heading.

-M-

Night was falling rapidly, and Ben had not yet made it to town. He would have if he was riding, but the constant movement was not at all helping his mount's leg to heal. He searched for some sort of shelter, as he had been since the beginning of the sun's setting, but he still found nothing in the vacant desert. They continued to plod along until Ben finally saw a cave in the rising rockface, just big enough to accommodate a standing horse. He readjusted their path so they headed toward it.

Inside the cave, Ben's mind wandered once again as his fingers mechanically completed the routine task of removing the horse's tack. What if Joe was in serious danger right then? He was in the middle of the desert, nowhere to be of any use. What if…? No. He stopped himself. No. He would not think of anything beyond that. He could not. If he let his mind continue, he might start believing it all. And though it was likely that Joe had gotten himself in trouble, the severity was still unknown….for now. Ben watched the sun set, threw sand over the fire he had made from the ample dry sticks lying around, and stretched out on his bedroll. He'd have to check Buck's leg tomorrow, he thought. He knew he should try to get some rest so they could travel farther the next day, but he knew that with his mind wandering as it was, sleep would be a long time coming.

-M-

Morning came much too early for Ben. He had, only hours from sunrise, fallen into a fitful sleep. Yet, with the sun, he rose and checked Buck's leg. It had swollen from the twist, growing to twice its normal width. Ben swore. He had no extra water to cool it with, and it was obviously causing his horse pain. There was no way he would carry a rider. It was equally impossible, however, that Ben could carry all the supplies he had brought along. Weighing his options, he saddled his mount and resigned himself to a day of walking through the desert.

The hours crept by as Ben walked. As he walked, he thought. Every so often, he would jerk himself back into reality, knowing that if he did not pay attention, he would miss something important, leaving him lost in the desert, or worse. But he could not help it. He inwardly turned to the memories of his life and especially of his sons. He remembered the caring arguments between the eldest and youngest, the camping trips they took, the jokes pulled on one another. But he could not help remembering the bad times, too. All the times one of the boys was sick, he sat next to them, comforting them the best he could. The others had done their share of worrying, too, each taking turns with Adam and Hoss, but most often Joe. He held the family together, as they each did in their special way. The elder three bonded more with each time the youngest was ill. Ben chuckled. Not the best way to bond with your boys…. Suddenly, out of nowhere, a sharp blow sent him tumbling into oblivion.

-M-

Cracking open one eye, all Ben could see was darkness. What? he thought. How did I get here? Where _is_ here? He tried to ask aloud, but all he managed was a muffled "mmph" that slipped around the gag in his mouth. He soon realized that both his hands and feet were bound, and he lay with his back against a stone surface. He heard shuffling, then the sharp sizzle as a match was struck. Flame sprang to life as the boy across the cave lit a lamp and turned it up. Looking at the fifteen year old, Ben could see the scruffy hair and bloodshot eyes he had seen so many times before as a father, telling him the boy had been roused from sleep. The boy slowly got to his feet and brought a canteen toward Ben. He released the gag and offered the water, which Ben eagerly accepted. Able to speak, he asked the clichéd questions, "Where am I? And who are you?"

"Oh, you're still where we found you, mister. I'm Sammy. Them there's my friends, Dennis and Mikey. We's needs some money, so I supposin' they stopped you to get some. I dunno though. Dennis don't always tell me everythin'. He says-"

"Sam! What have I told ya about disclosing our plans to the captives?"

"Well, Dennis, you ain't never told me nothin' about disclothin' nothin', but I-"

"No, idiot! DisCLOSing. Telling him our plans!"

"Oh. You done told me not to."

"So why are you?" he held up a hand, "No, nevermind. I don't wanna know. Go back to sleep." Sammy complied. Dennis turned to Ben. "You don't remember me, do ya, Benjamin Cartwright? Ha! That's right! I know you. And you know me. Remember little Den Rosmurdt? Yes, I see you do. Do you remember all the pain you caused me? 'Cuz I do. And seeing you out here in the desert, well, I thought to myself, how perfect. I wasn't even lookin' for ya. But here you are, right in my hands. And I think it's high time for some payback." With this, Dennis turned away from Ben and took up the spot he had vacated. He blew out the lamp, chuckling maliciously.

Den? Little Den Rosmurdt? How could it be? The little freckle-faced, red-haired boy that had been his neighbors' child and Adam's best friend? Had Ben really hurt him that badly? All he had had in mind at the time was keeping him out of danger. With nothing else to do, memory soon overtook him. He found himself standing in the living room of his own home, staring down two seven-year-old boys. He swung his gaze back and forth between Adam's sensitive chocolate brown eyes and Den's unapologetic blue ones. The boys were total opposites, and for all Ben could figure, that fact alone was what drew them so closely together. He hated to punish either one, but with what he had just seen them doing, he could not let it go. Coming up on the precipice on the border of the Ponderosa land while riding that morning, Ben stopped short as he saw two small figures standing near the edge and gesturing farther out. He could not believe it. He jumped from his horse's back and ran toward the boys. Reaching them, he dared not make a sound for fear of them getting startled and accidentally stepping too far. Instead, he had reached out and grabbed them both by the shoulders and pulled the two boys back from the edge. As expected, they tried to pull away, but Ben kept a strong hand on each. Swiveling both toward him, he could clearly see the fear etched into their faces. He hauled them both back to the ranch house and gave them admittedly hard punishments before accompanying Den back to his own house, making sure to tell Den's pa what he had found the boys doing. A few days later, he heard through Adam that Den had had even more punishments heaped onto him, including a beating that nearly killed the poor boy. His pa had reined himself in before killing him, but the damage was already done. Den's shoulder muscle was torn from his bone, and never grew back quite right. Ben had not known this was going to happen; he had only met the father once or twice before and did not feel as though he was a violent person. Hearing the account from Adam, Ben felt guilty. He had not meant for the boy to get in even more trouble. After that, Den had had to take it easy around his house for a while, but even when the doctor said he could get back to the harder work, his arm would cause him grief, sending stabs of pain through him when he tried to raise it above shoulder level, in front or behind him. He had dreamed of being "the bestest horse-breaker ever in the history of ever!", but because of that day, he had had to give up on that.

And now he blamed Ben. And Ben knew that no matter how he tried to explain, he would not be able to get the young man to believe he really did not mean for that to happen, or even that he felt horribly about it. He looked over to the motionless forms on the ground before him, wondering what Den had in store for him before drifting off to sleep himself.

-M-

Ben woke to the shock of water to his face. He spluttered, gasping from shock. Dennis stood over him, an upturned canteen in his hand. Ben looked into his stormy grey eyes, remembering when he would have classified them as silver. So much had changed. So much.

"Get up, Ben. It's a new day. I never got to ask you yesterday; where are you heading?" Dennis asked, a malicious gleam in his eye.

Ben wondered whether to tell him the truth or not. It shouldn't hurt, he decided, as long as he didn't divulge any details about his family. "Pine Flatts," he croaked. Last night, in the desert with no water, sure had not helped him any.

Dennis's curiosity was piqued. "Pine Flatts? Now what would you be doing over there?"

"Picking up unbroken horses for the Ponderosa." Ben hoped he was not going to tell too much.

"Well, I can't say I didn't expect you to be doing something practical…. But why don't you have someone along with you? I mean, you _are_ getting up there in age…" Dennis smirked. Ben shifted uncomfortably, much to Dennis's amusement. He knew Ben was sensitive to anyone talking about his age. Yet Ben held his tongue. The annoyance that flashed across Dennis's face was not missed, though. What Ben had not expected was the well-aimed kick that hit him full-on in the ribs. His face contorted in a grimace as he let out an involuntary groan, curling up as best he could while bound. It only served to amuse Dennis even more. "You know, Ben, you messed up my life forever, so I'm going to make the rest of yours a living hell." He threw back his head, cackling.

Ben looked around the cave, illuminated slightly with the newborn sun. There were only two others there, as Sammy had said. Sammy himself was looking away, toward the cave entrance, seemingly trying to ignore what was going on behind him. Mikey, however, was looking on intently. Ben silently cursed his luck. If it was the other way around, he could have put on more of a show for Sammy. Ben could tell that he was the type that still had a conscience, or a shred of one anyway, so Ben knew he must not have been with Dennis and Mikey very long. If only Sammy was watching. He might have stood up a little on Ben's behalf. As it was, Ben was on his own, and he knew it. So he tried not to let Dennis have the satisfaction that came with hurting him. Dennis soon got tired of the lack of response Ben gave and let loose. He pummeled the older man with his fists and feet, not caring what kind of damage he inflicted, blind as he was with anger.

-M-

Each day followed the same routine. Dennis woke Ben to beat up on him, so much so that soon, Ben could barely move of his own power. He began to wonder about the advantages of waking up each morning. But just then, every morning, he would think of Adam and Hoss, and Little Joe, who he was going to see. So he would force himself to wake.

Instead of the now-accustomed water, Ben woke to the gentle prodding of a hesitant finger to his shoulder. Cracking open his eyes, he saw the petrified face of Sammy staring back at him. Looking at the boy, Ben realized once again that he was young. Too young. And today, it showed as he peered nervously over his shoulder at the sleeping forms of his companions. It was then that Ben realized that the sun was not yet in the sky. All was dark. Why was Sammy waking him now? He looked back at the boy questioningly, not trusting himself to speak.

"I's gonna get ya outta here. I don' like how they'se treatin' ya. Sure, iffn we needed money, it'd be okayer, but then they'd not beat ya up like this. This is just wrong. I'se got an idea to get ya outta here, mister-" Sammy froze and turned sharply as Dennis shifted. After waiting half a minute, he continued. "We'se runnin' low on firewood. Usually, it's my job, but I think I'd be able to get Dennis n' Mikey to do it. Then I can help you 'scape…." Ben blinked at him slowly, a slight smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. Fortunately, Sammy took this to mean exactly what Ben hoped. He leaned over and whispered, "okay. I'ma see what I can do…. Just hang tight. You'll be outta here soon, mister, I promise ya." Then he turned and crept back to his bedroll.

-M-

Ben had no idea how he did it, but Sammy kept his word. He woke the next morning to a completely empty cave save Sammy, poking his shoulder again. He helped Ben sit up, then gave him a much needed drink from the canteen. A thought struck Ben then. "How-" he stopped to clear his throat, "how do you boys still have water? We're in the desert."

Sammy just looked at him. "We been in this part of the desert before, mister. We know where the water is. We'se got pretty smart, bein' in the desert all the time."

"I suppose you have…" Ben admitted.

"We gotta git you outta here, mister. Dennis n' Mikey won't take long, workin' together n' all."

Ben needed no more encouragement. Sammy pulled out a dinged knife and cut through the ropes binding his hands and feet, helping Ben stand. He was shaky, but after a few minutes leaning heavily on Sammy, he could stay on his feet. They started toward the mouth of the cave slowly; it was hard for Ben's sore body to support him. They made it eventually, and outside, Buck was already saddled. Sammy looked worriedly at Ben. "Can ya ride?"

"Yeah. I should be able to. Thank you for helping me."

"Well mister, I don't like none how they'se treatin' ya. And to be honest, they don't treat me too good, neither," Sammy replied, almost wistfully.

Ben looked at Buck, whose leg had healed miraculously fast. He looked back at Sammy, then immediately asked if he would come along. Sammy's eyes widened. "What happens when they realize I'm gone?"

"We would work together. It'll be okay, Sammy. We will protect each other. I'd rather you be with me than all alone here when they see I'm no longer their punching bag." Sammy smiled in gratitude at him. Mounting Buck, Ben pulled Sammy onto the saddle behind him, hanging the two canteens on the saddle horn. Then he steered Buck out onto the trail they had followed, tapping him in the sides to advance to a trot.

-M-

Along the way to Pine Flatts, Ben told Sammy about the Ponderosa and his boys, in return for Sammy's backstory.

"I was only five when my parents died on their way home from church one Sunday. The horse spooked at a snake on the side of the road and galloped off the path outta pop's control. He tripped on a log and sent the whole rig off the side of a cliff. Neither of them survived, but mama was alive long enough to say goodbye in the hospital 'fore she died…." Sammy choked back a sob before continuing. "The neighbors took me in, Mr. and Mrs. Williams. They'se not the best people, though. They'se was beatin' me an' makin' me do all kinds of hard work with no breaks. So I ran away. Dennis found me an' took me in… kinda. We worked real well together, till I figured out that they'se outlaws. Then I couldn't get away, cuz I'd seen 'em already, an' could identify 'em. So then I lived with them for ten years, I guess, and now you'se helpin' me." Sammy flashed Ben a smile. Ben returned it, but in the back of his mind, he wondered how this young man, younger than Little Joe even, could hold up through all of that.

Yanking Ben from his reverie, Sammy gasped and grabbed Ben's arm. He managed to stammer out the word, "there" through his teeth. Ben whipped his head around to see behind them and saw two riders galloping full-speed toward them. Kicking Buck hard, the two men urged the already tired horse into a gallop. Fortunately, they were nearing their destination, and the wide, flat plains were beginning to bear vegetation. Rounding the corner of a bank of trees, they ducked into it and dismounted to make them harder to spot. They watched the road anxiously.

Soon, Dennis and Mikey came, now only trotting to try to avoid arousing suspicion. Both Ben and Sammy shrank back into the thicker foliage. Their gaze was fixed so intently on the two men that they did not even notice another man coming from the opposite direction of the road until they had all collided. In the blink of an eye, Dennis and Mikey had guns drawn and were bearing down on the third man, who had been turned around trying to keep control of the twenty horses he was leading. The third had not relinquished his hold on the leads in his hand, but raised both to show he had no gun. This helped naught, however, for Dennis did not back down; rather, he urged his horse closer to the third man's. He pressed his gun into the soft green fabric of the opposite man's coat, the ever-present threatening gleam in his eye. Suddenly, Dennis uttered a bark of laughter, wheeling his horse around. He and Mikey backed off the road to let the third man pass, then continued down the road toward the town. Once they were out of sight and before the third man went too far, Ben stepped out of the brush, followed by Sammy.

"Joe! Little Joe!" Ben called. Joe swung around on his horse, startled. Seeing Ben, his face lit with joy, then confusion.

"Pa! What are you doing here?" Joe asked as he swung Cochise around. "And who is that? I haven't seen him around the Ponderosa, have I?"

"No, this is Sammy. We met on the road-"

"Well. Looks like a family reunion," Dennis cut in. He and Mikey rode out from their hiding place. "although I can't say I expected that…. Ah, well. Hey, Ben. You remember what I told ya in the cave? About making your life a living hell?" A hesitant nod. "Good. 'Cuz I meant it." And with that, Dennis raised his fist, gun drawn, and fired – straight at Joe, hitting him in the side.

Joe spun off of Cochise, his pinto rolling her eyes in fear of the noise. Landing hard on the firm ground, Joe could not help but utter a groan. Immediately, Ben reacted, rushing toward his fallen son. Before being able to take two steps, however, he was stopped by a shout. "I don't think so, Ben," Dennis smirked, gun now level with Ben's chest. "See, I told you I meant it. You ended my life, so now you can make a choice…. Whose life do _I_ get to end – yours," his gaze flicked to Joe, "or your son's?"

Under normal circumstances, Ben would have answered immediately. However, in all the chaos, Dennis and Mikey seemed to have forgotten that Sammy was there, and not their ally. He had sneaked around their horses, eased Mikey's pistol from his holster, _dadburnit, he's good_, and aimed it at Dennis. "Okay, Dennis. Drop it!" Sammy yelled. "I'se had enough of you bein' mean to whoever you want and gettin' away with it. That ain't gonna happen no more!"

When Sammy spoke, both men turned to look, startled. Mikey reached for the gun no longer on his hip, and Dennis swiveled his to point at Sammy. Ben took the opening. He lunged for Dennis, who saw him coming and fired at Sammy, hitting him square in the chest. Sammy gasped, squeezing his trigger, and gave Dennis a matching wound. They both crumpled to the ground. Mikey, watching both of his only friends fall, looked at Ben and immediately raised his hands, surrendering. Ben rushed to Sammy, picking his head up off of the ground. The tears that had been threatening to fall since Dennis had shot Joe now spilled over, and all Ben could say to Sammy was an emotional, "Thank you."

Sammy smiled in reply before closing his eyes.

-M-

Three months later, all was normal at the Ponderosa. The sound of gunshots had led the sheriff of Pine Flatts to the scene unfolding just within the limits of the town. He had quickly called for the doctor, arresting Mikey after hearing him confess immediately. Because of the swift arrival of the sheriff and the doctor, both Joe and Sammy were saved. Dennis had been killed on impact. They had stayed in Pine Flatts only long enough to have the boys heal sufficiently to be able to bear the trip back home. _And what an interesting time THAT was… _Ben thought to himself. He knew how Joe could be after a week of bedrest, but with Sammy there, too, they took an immediate liking to each other and seemed to feed off of each other, making it all the more difficult for Ben to keep them both still.

Ben smiled. _At least they've got plenty to do now. _Since taking Sammy on as a hand on the Ponderosa, the friendship between the boys only grew. They were always laughing, always having friendly competitions – who could finish their chores faster, and the like. Ben was happy for them. Attempting to read the paper, he thought about those days in captivity and Dennis. He still felt guilty for what had happened to him, but he had let it go. He was glad some good came from that ordeal.

_But Joe is not going anywhere alone anytime soon!_

** So…. How'd I do? I'd love to hear what you think of the first fanfic I ever published!**


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